Yu Zhi was amused by the gesture. She took out a tissue from the cardboard box and placed it gently atop his hand: "Childish or not?"
Her laughter was like a bloom of countless flowers bursting on the tip of Wen Renche's heart, an unearthly kind of beauty.
"As long as…" you like it, childish is fine.
His voice was so soft, so light that Yu Zhi couldn't quite catch the words before their lingering tenderness dissipated into the wind.
She was about to ask, but her peripheral vision caught sight of the tipsy redness on the skin of his hand, shifting her attention once more.
Yu Zhi sighed: "Don't do this next time."
If, at that moment, he needed a warm and secure embrace, she'd have offered it.
Wen Renche poured another cup of fruit tea and tucked it into her hands, his eyes smiling as thick lashes faintly brushed over the teardrop mole at the corner of his eye.
